


Penny for your thoughts

by hopelesswanderlust



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Established Relationship, M/M, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:42:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9128194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelesswanderlust/pseuds/hopelesswanderlust
Summary: Hell hath no fury than a Watanuki scorned (with a sick boyfriend on the loose)





	

**Author's Note:**

> So if anyone of you were reading XXXHoLic fanfiction back in the day, this is a companion piece to Mr.Monotony, which is super hard to follow and was an Alternate Universe taking place in NYC meant to link together bakeries, drug wars, and etc to say the least. Doumeki plays Trumpet for the Conservatory, Himawari is a vocalist, and Watanuki bakes. This has been sitting in my drafts for years but I thought it was cute enough to share, so why not? Hope you enjoy!

“What are you wearing?”

“Please tell me you're not being serious.”

“...”

“I’m hanging up now-”

“Watanuki.”

“...”

“...”

“...What?”

“I miss you.”

Watanuki sighed to himself and rubbed the feeling back into his arms. He was at a payphone, (being broke sucked sometimes) and tried not to let the guilt cloud his judgement. “I know.”

“...The weather’s crap tonight.” A pause. “Your outside, aren’t you?”

The culinary student rolled his eyes and then wanted to roll his eyes again because Doumeki couldn’t see it. Were they really at such a low point that they had to use the weather card?

“Cell phones are fucking expensive. I have a perfectly viable laptop capable of Skype but someone seems to be allergic to technology.”

“It’s a crutch. People use social media to keep them from actively communicating with real people.”

“You do realize you are the last person who should be saying that, right?”

“Cellphones aren’t that expensive. If you wanted a brick phone you could just buy a gas station one. If you need money-”

“No!” he said firmly, gritting his teeth. He immediately felt mortified at how defensive he had just gotten in response to a throwaway remark. Doumeki’s money had money to spare, it’s not like it was something he ever had to actively worry about.

It just pointed out the disparity between them sometimes. 

It had taken Doumeki a long time to get it through his head that he didn’t need the money. It also didn’t really console him very much when he relived Shiro’s livid expression when they had gone back on a family visit to the Doumeki’s when the musician had informed that the two were dating. Watanuki liked to think that the dislike was from the way his attire pretty much screamed ‘lives out of a suitcase’ then because Doumeki’s arm was wrapped around his waist. Wasn’t a country with legalized gay marriage supposed to be more forthcoming? 

He shook his head to clear his thoughts when the breathing on the other line got heavier. 

“Doumeki?”

“...Are you sick?”

“....”

“Doumeki.”

“Yes,” the musician sighed and cut himself short to cough profusely. He made a wet sound that sounded vaguely disgusting and the culinary student was glad he was nowhere around to witness it. “Himawari said it was a fever.”

Watanuki tried to ignore the irrational burn of jealousy at that. They were good friends, it would only make sense for her to visit him in his place. Understanding didn’t really make it better, because knowing that the pig tailed girl had a spare key was telling as it was.

“Are you jealous?” he had asked one time over dinner, the TV muted because of his own self-imposed rules: no distractions at mealtime. It almost felt familial sometimes, if it weren’t for the blank looks the musician gave him when said rules were made.

“No!” he had instinctively said, so caught off guard that the chicken breast he had been wrestling with slipped from his fingers and to the floor. Watanuki sighed in defeat to himself. 

What a waste. He could have easily brought back dinner from class, but cooking was what he loved to do, despite the pointless lectures and how every minute of his day was revolving around food in some way. 

“Then what’s the problem?” Doumeki had asked stoically, the smallest of frowns adorning his mouth as he appraised the fallen chicken.

“It’s just...” Watanuki rolled his lip into his mouth and wiped his hands on his apron for something to do, trying to get away from the musician’s probing eyes. “Weird.”

Which was exactly what Watanuki had not wanted to say, but his mouth had other ideas.

Doumeki turned his full attention to him, no longer praying for the wasted dinner and fixed what Watanuki had dubbed ‘the Doumeki intensity’ on him, amber eyes boring into him. “And working for Yuuko wasn’t?”

“Touche,” he tried to be cool about it, but he must have done something wrong because Doumeki was giving him another look. “What?” he said in exasperation, getting on his knees to trash the chicken breast. It was way past the five second rule, and even if Watanuki believed in it he knew that the floor was crawling with dust mites that seemed to accumulate whenever Watanuki’s watchful eyes weren’t on them. 

“Nothing.” Doumeki went back to trying to make out what exactly what happening in the silent soap opera and that was that.

But it bothered the hell out of him now.

Watanuki chewed his lips out because he knew the musician couldn’t see it. “Does she come over often?”

“Yeah, to bring food sometimes.”

“That tastes like death.”

“I never said I ate it.”

“You moron! Of course you need to eat while you’re sick!” 

“Didn’t you just imply that her Chicken Noodle Soup is conjured from the river of styx?”

“What?”

“...Never mind.”

“In fact, why are we even talking? Get some sleep!”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?!”

“‘Cause you’re not here.”

Watanuki choked, beating down on his chest minutely. Did he hear that right? Doumeki? Being emotional? “Huh?”

Doumeki sounded the slightest bit bashful, which, knowing him came as rarely as a meteor shower. “Don’t make me say it again...” he sounded at a loss to respond and just a touch unsure, which was making him fuzzy and warm and doing all sorts of pleasant things to his insides until he tacked on ‘idiot’ at the end of the sentiment. 

Being away from the musician was doing funny things to his head. 

“Well,” he wasn’t even sure why he was pretending to be angry and softened his voice when he noticed the barista across the street closing shop. “Goodnight then.”

“‘Night.”

Watanuki didn’t sleep well that night, the worry eating at him for most of it.

“Morning!” his roommate Subaru greeted him with a big smile on his face, thumping Watanuki on the back friendly as Watanuki was brushing his teeth, which would have been more appreciated if his mouth wasn’t full of foam. 

“Morning,” he wheezed weakly after his toothbrush was safely dislodged from his windpipe. 

“Are you on breakfast duty today?” Subaru inquired kindly, finding his chef coat hanging on the back of the door.

“Yeah,” he sighed to himself. Thursdays were when the majority of the sports teams came in for the early morning service,a dn suffice to say they didn’t hold back. “Where do they even put it all away?”

Subaru giggled (yes, there are still chaste people in the world) because that’s what Subaru was inclined to do in almost all scenarios, as Watanuki had come to know. “Don’t let them hear you say that, they’re gonna put you on dish duty.”

Watanuki suppressed a further groan at this, because if there was anything worse than cooking for insufferable bottomless pits, it was cleaning up after said insufferable, bottomless pits. Which, speaking of-

“Hey, can I use your phone for a minute?”

“Sure, just give me a second!”

It wasn’t stupid to check on the idiot after a few hours, was it? He had been lucid the last time Watanuki had called.

“I miss you.”

ugh, Watanuki covered his face, still aflame with blush at the memory of the musician’s raspy whisper still echoing in his ears. 

“Here ya go, calling home?”

“Something like that.”

Subaru gave him a look at the mysterious reply but left him to his devices.

He dialed the familiar digits and waited anxiously.

It was picked up on the third ring. “Hello?” a distinctively female voice answered, all sweetness and good intentions.

“Uh...”

Watanuki had spoken to Himawari many times, he even liked to say they were good friends, but the memory of last winter was still fresh in his mind and after the conversation last night he was left to some strange conclusions. 

“Oh, Watanuki!” he heard the clink of what he assumed were porcelain plates. “Doumeki’s asleep and I was just about to leave-Do you want me to pass on a message?”

“Oh um...” 

“Watanuki! Service starts in fifteen minutes!” Subaru called from the door and Watanuki bit his lip in hesitance.

“Actually, I got to go.” he paused for an afterthought. “just, let him know I called. How’s he doing?”

“To be honest? He’s been a bit delirious since yesterday but I’m sure he’ll sweat it out.”

Watanuki was still trying to piece together delirious and Doumeki in the same sentence.

“Yeah...I guess.”

“See ya!” she chirped, the line going dead. 

Watanuki stared at the phone for a few moments after the call ended and was only roused by Subaru’s persistence that they hurry up and leave before all the good jobs were taken. 

Watanuki’s school wasn’t a culinary one per se, but the program belonged to a well known sports and art school. The culinary program was responsible for cooking to the meal plan. It wasn’t ideal, and it was minimum wage, but he could afford to take some interesting courses and he had a place to sleep that was decidedly away from Doumeki.

It seemed like a step back for them, but he knew it was necessary.

The chaos of last winter had made it clear to him that some distance away from his loved ones was needed, and he needed the space. After weeks of separation from the Rondart experience that had been as close to a personal hell as it could get, he relished the months that bled together and spent the best summer of his life in Doumeki’s apartment. So when the acceptance letter came back, he hesitantly ticked off living on residence and sent it back.

“Why?”

“Well the campus is a bit far-”

“There’s lots of schools in Manhattan. Better, even.”

He was about to retort that the musician’s arguments would have been better if he could string together a proper sentence but was stopped at the smouldering look to his face. 

“I-it’s just better this way,” he fiddled with the hem on his shirt, not daring to look into Douemki’s eyes. “I’ve never been completely independent. I just need this. For a little while.” 

They didn’t talk about it again, not even the week before he had started packing up his stuff, and not even when the bus had come to take him. Doumeki had been silent throughout the whole process, but the musician wasn’t very talkative so he wrote it off to having an overactive imagination when he had turned in his seat to watch the guitar player stare after him with his arms hanging by his sides, looking generally helpless. Watanuki couldn’t shake the image away, no matter how many phone calls they had and how many promises were made to visit but got cancelled. That ‘little while’ had lasted three months so far and Watanuki really had admiration for those girls that didn’t sob over long distance relationships. It was starting to look like the worst idea he ever had.

“Calling again?” Subaru looked up from his cartoons, clad in polar bear printed pajamas which just looked so adorable despite the fact that the owner was well into his twenties. 

Watanuki nodded hesitantly, ears burning in retaliation.

Subaru fixed him a sad smile. “Which I could help you there, but I’m sort of expecting an important call tonight. Can it wait?”

Absolutely not. “Sure,” he mumbled, already pulling on his jacket, he hunted for his boots somewhere, not focusing on the look his roommate was giving him. Subaru blinked at him.

“Watanuki, there’s going to be a storm tonight!”

“Ugh, how bad?”

“Enough to close down a city, according to the news.”

“Well,” he pulled up his boots and wrapped a snug scarf around his neck. “It’s a good thing I’m not leaving then.”

Subaru not so subtly stared at him in disbelief.

“What?” Watanuki snapped, not liking the ‘I’m judging you’ silence one bit.

Subaru cracked a mirthful smile, green eyes growing teasing. “I’m at a payphone, trying to call home-”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Watanuki groaned, flinging a book in his roommate’s direction.

Subaru ducked gracefully, if there was even a way to evade danger gracefully. “All of my change I spent, on you!”

Watanuki shook his head and fixed a weak glare, trying to fight his own smile. “You are an embarrassment.” 

Subaru continued to wail off key even when Watanuki considered himself quite a far distance away from his room (alright, it was the hallway but he was sure they were going to get a noise complaint later on) and was starting to think his roommate wasn’t as sweet as he wanted everyone to believe. 

As it were, it turns out Subaru wasn’t exaggerating because the culinary student had to screw his eyes shut as a wave of cold air slammed into him from the door and whoa-

He could barely see through the heavy snow clouding his vision, thankful for the spectacles he wore that took the brunt of the storm. 

“I can do this,” the blue eyed boy tried to reason with himself. “I used to be a drug dealer, a little bit of snow shouldn't get in the way.” Even to his own ears he sounded pathetic as he made a dash for the phone booth tucked into the corner of the street. 

He was shivering when he slammed the glass door shut around him and breathed out a sigh of relief against the glass, watching his breath curl like smoke in the enclosed space, fogging up the booth and his glasses. Watanuki willed his stiff fingers to grab for the dollar he knew was kept in his back pocket with heavy resistance. 

The warmth blooming in his chest may not have been enough to soothe the chill in his unresponsive fingers, but the ringing on the other end was worth every inch of snow piling outside of the booth at that moment. 

“Oh-hey Watanuki.” Himawari greet him from the other end and Watanuki’s eyebrows came together. She sounded less than enthusiastic, which, knowing her was always a sign of impending destruction.  
“What happened?” he snarled, for once not in check for his true emotions.

Himawari being taken aback by his harsh tone would have been an understatement at the way her voice shrunk upon hearing him. “Um, now’s not a good time-”

“Pass the phone to Doumeki.” his word offered no room for argument, which at this moment Himawari seemed very inclined to give.

“But-”

“Himawari.” he pinched the bridge of his nose to keep what was left of his composure. “Could you please put my boyfriend on the line. Right now.” 

It was gratifying to say it out loud, there weren’t many times where he could casually bring up that he was dating Doumeki, but now seemed to work because of the way her breath hitched and stuttered hesitantly.

“Okay,” she said weakly, and with a little bit of rustling a rough voice expressed its confusion .

“Wha?” the sound of Doumeki’s voice sounded worse than before, thick with phlegm and blocked sinuses and dehydrated and Watanuki wanted to reach over the state line and actually hug the idiot and soothe comfort into his bones. 

“Are you okay?” all anger was wiped out of him as he leaned against the booth, teeth chattering from the cold. When was the storm going to let up?

A gargled sound was made on the other end. “Y-yeah,” and it was more than pitiful how almost scared the musician sounded, that Watanuki made his decision.

“That’s it.” he snapped, pleased with the surprised sound Doumeki made, low and intimate in his ear. “I’m coming over.”

“W-what about-”

“It’s a cooking class not medical school, I’ll be over in the next day or two. Don’t die on me.”

He was resolute, prepared to hang up dramatically and demand a ride-

“You don’t have to do that.”

Doumeki said in a small voice, almost inaudibly.

Watanuki hesitated and jerked the phone back. “What do you mean?” all his insecurities came rushing back when he remembered that Himawari was still over but that’s-

“You can’t come rushing back home every time I get sick,” he sniffled and really, was it possible for his heart to keep breaking?

“You’re lucky that you’re so cute.” Watanuki said darkly, feeling a hot flush descend his neck at Doumeki’s submissive tone.

What? Leave him alone he hasn’t been home for two months.

Doumeki’s breath hitched, low and raspy in the phone. “Sorry.”

He smiled smugly, the smile dropping when he surveyed the snow outside.

\-------

When he came back, Subaru was packing.

“Going to visit your family?”

The green eyed boy nodded, ignoring his roommate's snicker as a pair of Kermit boxers were tucked into his suitcase. “You know, if you want a favor that’s not the way to ask.”

Watanuki’s eyebrows met his hairline. “What-”

“I’m an onmyouji,” he said dryly, clicking the locks into place. “but I don’t need clairvoyance to detect when someone misses home.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest. “Subaru-”

The black haired boy simply shook his head. “If you aren’t packed in fifteen minutes we aren’t going to make it to New York.”

\---------------------

“Watanuki-”

“Really, you’ve done enough!” he pushed his glasses up his nose and herded Himawari out of the apartment, anticipation brewing at the thought of seeing Doumeki, no matter how snot nosed and feverish. 

“But-”

“I’ll visit you tomorrow! BYE!” he all but threw her out of the apartment and shut the door in her face and breathed a sigh of relief.

He surveyed the apartment and flinched in horror.

He knew the musician was sick, but there was no excuse for the disarray of the tight space, used tissues overflowed bins stationed at almost every corner, bowls were stacked high on the coffee table and-

It was clearly the musician, breathing heavily, his face shiny with sweat, ochre eyes glazed as they glossed over him.

"Watanuki?" he called miserably, the baritone of his voice pitched low and rough from sickness. He felt his heart sink at the sight.

"We need to get you to the hospital."

Although the musician was clearly out of it, his eyes widened in panic and he almost shot up out of bed before falling back with a curse. "No!Nonono." 

Watanuki gawped at the frantic Doumeki, throwing a near fit at the mention of a hospital. It was probably the most emotional he saw Doumeki, besides when he first came back to the apartment after his period of captivity with Kyle.

"Why?"

Doumeki buried his face in a pillow, but his ears flushed crimson and gave him away, baring a strong resemblance to a tomato. He mumbled something.

"Um...what?" He sat down on the space next to Doumeki and combed his fingers through (ew greasy, sweaty) hair. Doumeki's face made a comeback, his bleary, nearly gold eyes evaded his. "Can't afford it."

If it was even possible for his heart to drop further it would be rolling around on the ground with the used up tissues by now.

"If you need money, why don't you call your par-"

Feverish Doumeki was no less lucid, and supported that claim by delivering a cutting look. 

Watanuki sighed in distress. "I don't know how to help you, Shizuka. Clearly you can't afford groceries or the rent if you choose to stay here. Maybe I can dip into my student loans-"

"No." the Doumeki said adamently, eyes hard as stone.

"Oh, its no big deal I work on campus I can make up the difference!"

"Watanuki."

The culinary student gave his ex-roomate a frown at the finality in Doumeki's tone. 

"What is it?"

"I was...saving up," Doumeki looked to be struggling with finding the right words, looking everywhere but in his eyes."To go..."

Watanuki's mind raced with possibilities. "Studio recording? A concert hall?"

"No!" he growled, gripping Watanuki's hand tight, commanding attention. "Can you stop interrupting?"

Watanuki went quiet at the admission. 

"I wanted to save up enough to stay with you."

The culinary student's mind blanked. "Stay...with me?"

"My career is going nowhere, so why bother with Manhattan?"

“You mean you-” Watanuki pressed his lips together to process this. Doumeki had a look of open fear on his face. It gutted him to think he put that expression on his face. Doumeki wasn’t supposed to look that away. He was supposed to hide away these looks so Watanuki wouldn’t feel off balance, like he feels now. This wasn’t their natural order, with Watanuki being the composed one while Doumeki openly laid it all out. It occurred to Watanuki that maybe it wasn’t the healthiest kind of behavior for a relationship, but it’s not like the both of them had anything to go on.

Like he had cut Doumeki’s strings, he rushed to explain himself. “I’m not exactly living paycheck to paycheck yet, but I’m going to be home a lot while I look for a job, because god knows it takes long to. I’ve been trying to get in touch with the local orchestra but without a degree or teaching credentials I don’t think I would be getting much. I may have to start selling some of the instruments but I don’t care if it means I get to-to stay with you. I don’t know what to do without you, honestly. I didn’t have a problem living by myself before but now,”

The bare look of plea on his face made Watanuki want to vibrate in his seat. “I don’t want to know what it would feel like to not have you in my life. I’ll follow you wherever you go.”

His prolonger silence made Doumeki shrink into himself. His expression retreating back to stone. God no-It was the last thing he had wanted to see on Doumeki’s face.

“You love me, don’t you?” It honestly baffled Watanuki to no end.

They hadn’t said it out loud, because he thought he knew everything about Doumeki. Thought he understood the small smiles he saw in the corner of his eye whenever Watanuki cracked a particularly sarcastic remark at Yuuko. The way Doumeki’s embrace lingers, squeezes tight with his cheek pressed against his neck and the quiet hitch of his breath as he let Watanuki go, like he’s saying ‘Be safe, I love you.’ 

He thought that the little tells spoke volumes, but by the way Doumeki was pulling away from him, it was obvious that he didn’t.

He grabbed onto Doumeki’s wrist and hung his head. As easy as it was to yell at the idiot, this was not the time. He could feel his face warming hotter than his boyfriend’s feverish skin.

“I don’t know why you thought I would even say no you fucking-you can’t just spring this on me and expect me to answer right away! Normal people have moderation, you know?” Watanuki was actually shaking. God help him. “Of course you can move in with me, you asshole. Why did you think I would ever say no?”

This really shouldn’t have been a big deal. He had freeloaded off Doumeki for eight months, and the musician had never said a word, before paying rent. 

“We’re together. That means that we share the burden, and that when you need help, I take care of you. I’m-not good at asking for help. I never have been, and I know it’s easy for you because you care about me, but it goes both ways. I’ll try to be better about it. This isn’t the ‘Martyr-Watanuki-Show’ and I know I’m not making sense but-” he chanced a look at Doumeki, trying to stiffle the smile that was blooming on his face at seeing Doumeki’s mouth hang open. He thinks Doumeki would forever held it against him if he tried to take a picture.

“if you’re in, so am I.”

Doumeki pulled him forward and crushed his lips against his. 

He fucking missed feeling Doumeki, his pulse hummingbird quick and lips out on a mission to devour him alive.

(Doumeki later informed him, choking with embarrassment later behind a cup of tea that he got very emotional when he was sick as a kid because he was heavily ill frequently and they coddled him a lot. No matter how much time he spends on his own, he hasn't grown out of it. It’s why no matter how much Himawari loves him, she tries to do the bare minimum of looking after him.)

\---

 

It takes a couple years and frankly, a scary amount of loans but Doumeki does get a job. He waits tables terribly and Watanuki cooks but they manage to barely pay the bills and go to bed every night with a kiss on the lips and wake up with arms wrapped around each other.

He’s amazingly blessed and wouldn’t trade it for the world.


End file.
